


Magic in St.Basil's

by edenforest



Series: I feel you in my dreams [9]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Morning After, Pre-Relationship, Seduction, Slow Burn, Smut, gallya
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-03 19:23:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6623146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edenforest/pseuds/edenforest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn’t gentle or soft. It was seven months of pressure erupting. Seven months of looks, pining, lust, hints and waiting. It was he pressing her wrists against the bed, red lines she clawed on his back with her short nails and grabs that left bruises. They were two starving people who had finally, after months, fed properly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tidal wave

**Author's Note:**

> Part 9/11

It finally happened in Moscow, at the last place Gaby had ever assumed it would happen. In a grey and rainy March day, seven months after they had met. They had been dancing around the subject for weeks. They had been circling and watching each other. Every touch had made Gaby’s skin tingle and Illya’s heart race. And still they had been keeping their distance. They both had blamed working together and how it would be inconvenient, but the truth was they were afraid. Neither one of them wanted to admit it. On missions they were constantly checking that the other was safe; afterwards they made sure that they were feeling good. They patched wounds if there were any, were there if the other wanted to talk. And still they didn’t manage to take that last step. That step which would make skin press against skin, fingers lace together, and muscles tense up from pleasure.

But then there was this grey noon in Moscow when there was nothing to do. Napoleon had disappeared somewhere with a women he had met the night before and Gaby and Illya were alone in the hotel room. They had a whole day before the mission. The tidal wave was crashing down. But it started with a light drizzle in the air.

“Is your apartment near?” Gaby asked when she looked out of the window to the drizzle.

“Not that far,” Illya said.

“What’s it like?” Gaby asked.

Illya shrugged his shoulders. “Nothing special. Small. Cold in winters. The radiators aren’t enough, you have to use the wood burner.”

“You have a wood burner?” Gaby asked and turned to look at Illya.

“Yes. In the living-room,” Illya said. “It is only way to keep warm in winters. And believe me, the winters are cold.”

Gaby snorted a little and turned back to the quiet city. It felt like the damp weather had made everybody disappear. It was like the city was sleeping; there were only a handful of people moving around. “Keep going,” she requested.

Illya wasn’t sure what he should tell. It was nice that Gaby was interested, but there wasn’t much to describe. “I don’t know what to say. It is an old building. The rooms are high and the windowsills are deep. Pipes make noises.”

“Is it nice?” Gaby asked

“Sometimes,” Illya confessed.

“When?” Gaby asked and turned her whole body towards Illya and leaned to the windowsill. She looked straight into Illya’s eyes.

”In the summers all the tin roofs shine in the sunlight,” Illya told. “And In the winters you forget you are in the city when all you see is snow covered roofs. It is not that good apartment, but it has character. It is poorly kept but sturdy.”

“It sounds like you fit right in,” Gaby said softy. She had meant her words as a compliment and hoped Illya would take them as such. She lowered her eyes when Illya looked at her and the corners of his mouth twitched. Gaby looked away and gave him a chance to watch her. She looked beautiful in her dark green long-sleeved dress. She had a low ponytail and white button earrings. Her hands were bent back and keeping a hold on the windowsill. Her cheeks were rosy and the soft grey light behind her framed Gaby into a delicate statue.

Then Gaby pushed herself away from the windowsill and turned into a living creature again. She tilted her head inquisitively and looked at Illya. ”I want to see it.”

“Okay,” Illya said.

“Just like that?” Gaby said, surprised. ”You are not arguing at all? You are just going to take me there?”

“Could I avoid it by arguing?” Illya asked and the corners of his mouth twitched again. He had a warm look in his eyes which made Gaby’s fingertips move. She wanted to touch his face.

“No,” Gaby said and held her smile.

Illya nodded and stood up. “You want to walk? Or is it still raining?”

Gaby looked out. “No. We can walk.”

The streets were wet but there were no puddles. The air was cool and there was a light mist.

“It is on the other side of the square,” Illya told her when they walked along the streets. “We walk there, past Kremlin and it is almost there.”

“You live near the Kremlin?” Gaby said and huffed a little. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

Illya glanced at her under his brows, but didn’t say anything. They waited for the cars to pass and Illya grabbed Gaby’s hand to cross the street. He let go of her hand afterwards, but they were walking so close that their hands were brushing against each other from time to time.

At the edge of Red Square Gaby stopped to look at St. Basil’s Cathedral. The mist in the air turned again to drizzle. Gaby thought the church was beautiful. And when the day was grey, the colours almost hurt her eyes. It looked like a circus to Gaby, but in a good way. She had learned to hate all things Russian out of habit. But onion domes she had always liked, and religious icons. She liked the symmetry and seriousness. The drizzle became stronger. Illya turned his collar up and Gaby glanced at him. He was symmetrical like the icons.

“We are getting wet,” he said. “Have you been in?” Illya nodded toward St. Basil’s.

“In this first time I have ever been in Russia?” Gaby asked and sounded more sarcastic than she meant to.

“Do you want to?” Illya asked.

The drizzle turned to rain and Gaby nodded. They ran across the Square. Everybody else seemed to have umbrellas except them. They stopped at the stairs and Gaby tried to settle her breaths. She unbuttoned her jacket and shook the water off. She wiped her wet bangs off her forehead so they would dry.

“So, who was Saint Basil?” Gaby asked.

”Only an ordinary man. He liked walk naked whether it was summer or winter. He stole from others and gave it to the poor,” Illya told. ”He also confronted Ivan the Terrible because of his cruelties.”

“Did he live through that?” Gaby asked.

“Yes,” Illya said. “And when he finally died, Ivan was one of his pallbearers.”

“It sounds like a big honor,” Gaby suspected, smiling.

Illya nodded and opened the door for Gaby. He took his flat cap off and shook the raindrops off it. He combed his hair with his fingers. He noticed Gaby looking at him and smiling. “It is a church,” Illya defended himself and was for some reason embarrassed.

“I didn’t say anything,” Gaby pointed out, but there was still a gentle smile on her lips. She liked that inside of his rigid and serious outside, there was still a boy, a polite boy who somebody had taught to take his hat off in church.

There were only few people with them in the church. Like the whole of Moscow, the grey and rainy weather had quieted down the city there too. Gaby walked ahead and looked around. Every surface was decorated. There wasn’t solid colour wall to be seen; only ornaments, flowers, leaves, saints, angels and icons--every centimeter full. She gazed at the ceiling and made a little twirl when she looked. Illya smiled at her. He let her lead where she wanted to go. He had been there many times before and was mostly watching Gaby. There was still wet hair stuck to her cheeks and forehead.

Gaby walked around, touched the walls with her fingertips if she was near enough. She wanted to feel the flowers. When she was under a dome she always looked up, and twirled to see the saints painted on the ceiling.

Gaby noticed that Illya was looking at her. She didn’t mind and let him watch. Illya followed her but kept some distance between them; let her wander about in the rooms. Every time Gaby changed rooms she glanced to Illya, to make sure he was still there and saw where she was going. And every time he was already looking at her. Gaby’s heart beat little bit faster every time their eyes met. All the abundant colours, the scent of the incense, and Illya’s gaze made her restless in a good way. It was like electricity under her skin.

Gaby glanced to Illya when she left the room. He was looking serious, but there was warmth in his eyes. Gaby took a hold on the door frame, so she didn’t bump into it; she was still looking Illya. She eyed the next ornamented room, started to walk around it, following the walls. But Gaby didn’t look at the walls or the paintings any more. Gaby looked at Illya like he was looking at her.

Illya looked so much like the day they met. He had a navy turtleneck and his suede jacket. His cap was in his hand, but otherwise he was as tall and serious as then. But then he had been a stranger looking at her in the next car, chased her through the streets of East Berlin. This Illya wasn’t a stranger any more. This was the Illya who had taught her to shoot and who she trusted with her life. Illya who followed her in the decorative rooms and whose intense gaze made her breath tremble. Illya who she dreamt about when she slept and even when she couldn’t sleep.

Gaby walked around the room and Illya stood still. She walked behind him. Illya turned his head quickly so he didn’t lose his eye contact with her. He didn’t look any more that serious either; only soft and out of breath.

Illya’s eyes followed Gaby. He wasn’t sure at what point she had stopped looking at the art and started looking at him, but that was what she was doing. She wandered around the room, looking at him. Illya didn’t know was she only teasing him or was she being serious. They had been playing for weeks and Illya didn’t want to play any more. Gaby’s face didn’t look like she was teasing. She looked excited but careful and, Illya wanted to think, aroused. Gaby walked slowly behind him almost brushing against him. He felt her fingers touching his hand. That was no accident. If she was only playing with him she was using all her tricks. Illya quickly turned his head so he didn’t miss a glimpse of her. She stared at him, lips parted and looking so sincere that she couldn’t be just teasing. Gaby moved toward the corridor and Illya followed.

Gaby pulled Illya behind her from room to room. She was sure they had already been in most of them. But she didn’t want to stop. The flowers and saints changed as the rooms changed. And the symmetrical faces of the icons watched emotionlessly their little game in the church. Gaby walked along the corridor, then she turned to walk backwards the last few steps. Illya looked back to her and seemed like he was holding his breath. Gaby turned around the corner with a little twirl and then she sneaked quickly through another doorway. She left Illya behind and walked faster.

When Illya turned the corner Gaby wasn’t there. He could still hear her heels on the tile floors. Illya turned around and started walking in other direction across the rooms.

Gaby peeked behind her when she hurried inside the colorful rooms. She didn’t know where she was anymore; she had lost her way and didn’t remember where she had been. She changed her direction; rushed through yet another door, turned again. The sound her heels made against the tile floors echoed in the walls and misled Illya when she changed direction again. Gaby’s heart was beating in excitement. She knew that when Illya would eventually catch her something was going to happen. She knew it. She knew it from the way Illya was looking at her and the way she wanted him. When Illya caught her she would let him come to her if he wanted and she wasn’t going to push him away or make any excuses. Gaby didn’t know where it was going to lead, but she didn’t care. She was tired of fighting back for any reason. She wanted to speed on and crash against Illya. She wanted to melt on his skin and lips and arms. She wanted to rub her naked skin against him and whisper obscene things into his ears.

Gaby turned at the next doorway and realized she was in a dead-end. She was trapped in the detailed room. She turned quickly and gasped sharply when Illya was covering the way out.

Illya felt like he was out of breath even if they hadn’t moved so fast that he could be. If he was out of breath it was because of Gaby. She was standing in the middle of the small embellished room staring at him, her eyes full of emotions. Illya didn’t know where this would eventually lead, but he knew what he wanted now. He knew what he had wanted for seven months. Illya wanted Gaby. He wanted her to be his. He wanted to get her, strip her naked and make love to her until they were too tired to move another muscle. He wanted to make her moan his name and beg for more.

They were alone. The scent of the incense was lingering in the air. Illya felt like the invisible glass keeping them apart was gone, shattered into tiny pieces. Gaby’s cheeks were red and Illya was sure they would be burning hot. He walked to her and without hesitating set his hands on Gaby’s bare neck and pulled her into a kiss. The tidal wave crashed over them. Gaby rose on her tiptoes, her hands grabbed the back of his jacket for balance. Her heart was beating so loud she was sure Illya could hear it. Gaby felt like she had waited for that kiss her whole life. She wanted it so much that it burned. Gaby’s hands were trembling when she slid them on Illya’s neck. He held her so tightly that Gaby’s toes barely touched the floor. It wasn’t soft, they didn’t take their time to build up the kiss. It was hungry and intense. It was hot, wet mouths, burning lips and rubbing tongues. It was lust and heat and it almost made the saints on the walls blush. They were like hungry animals at a carcass.

Suddenly there were people at the door. Gaby and Illya jerked away from one another. They had forgotten that they weren’t alone, they were in a church. There was a whole world around them.

The kiss burned on Gaby’s lips when she looked at Illya. Gaby could see Illya watching her quickly heaving chest. He licked his lower lip and then grabbed her hand. Illya yanked Gaby along and she followed. Gaby let Illya pull her across the rooms in his turn. Illya guided them out of the room labyrinth, out of the door, down the stairs and back to Red Square. The rain was still drizzling. Gaby had to almost run to keep up with Illya’s pace. They rushed past the Kremlin walls. The rain increased. When Illya opened the door at old worn-out building to let Gaby in, their jackets were wet. Gaby swiped her wet bangs. Illya pushed her against the hallway wall and pressed his mouth against hers. Gaby squeezed her fingers on the back of Illya’s wet jacket and pulled him closer. His hand slid over her breast and Gaby could feel the heat he was radiating through his jacket. If Illya wanted to take her there, against the hallways wall, Gaby would let him.

“Is it far now?” Gaby muttered against his lips impatiently. She just wanted to undress him already and push him in the bed.

“Five stairs,” Illya sighed. He pulled Gaby up the stairs. He didn’t let go of her hand when they ran up. They were both out of breath. Illya took the key from his pocket and opened the door that said “Ivanov” on it. He yanked Gaby in and when the door closed behind them he pinned her against it.

Gaby’s hands rose on Illya’s neck and she could feel their kiss all over her. It tickled her inside and outside. Gaby swiped the cap off Illya’s head and pushed his jacket over his shoulders. Illya took it off and pulled Gaby’s jacket away. They backed out from the door, still kissing and caressing. Illya bumped into a dresser and Gaby pushed him against it. Things fell off it onto the floor, something broke. Gaby kicked her pumps away, her hands pushed under Illya’s shirt and her kisses were wild and burned on Illya’s lips. He opened the zipper on her dress and pushed himself and Gaby off the dresser. Illya stripped his shirt off and opened his belt and trousers. Gaby pushed her tights down, balanced against the wall so she didn’t fall. They were rushing like somebody would interrupt them if they slowed down. Illya grabbed hold of Gaby’s dress and dragged her to the bedroom. He sat on the bed and the springs squeaked and it made Gaby smile. She thought what they would sound like with both of them on the bed. Illya took hold of the hem of Gaby’s dress and pulled it up. Gaby raised her arms. When the dress came off Illya’s lips pressed on her neck and kissed along her collarbones. He kicked his shoes off and pushed his trousers down.

Gaby climbed on the bed on all fours. When she was turning around Illya stopped her. He leaned to kiss Gaby’s lower back and took hold of her hips. Gaby let her back bend when Illya kissed his way up, tracing her spine. He kissed her shoulders, bit gently the back of her neck and then pulled her up on her knees and against himself. Gaby’s back arched and her head bent back to rest on Illya’s shoulder. He was kissing her neck, nibbling her earlobes. He slid his hands up Gaby’s thighs, over her hips. She was warm under his touch. And finally real, flesh and blood, moving and breathing, beating heart under his fingers. Not only something he had imagined. Not a dream.

Gaby bit her lower lip. She took hold of Illya’s thighs and set some of her weight on those. Her fingers burrowed on his skin when his hands slid up her sides and cupped her breast. She made a soft little moan and her other hand bent up and back on Illya head. Gaby’s fingers tangled in Illya’s hair. She grabbed harder than she had planned to but Illya didn’t mind. Illya stripped her bra off and the noises from Gaby just turned more delicious when he continued touching her. Gaby rubbed herself softly against his erection.

Illya’s hand slid in Gaby’s pants and she shivered when his fingers stroked her. Gaby liked that Illya wanted her to be ready. But she didn’t need it. She was ready. She had been ready in St. Basil’s. She had been ready for at least two months. She was slick with lust and heat. And Illya could feel that too. He sucked Gaby’s neck so hard she was sure there would be a mark afterwards. Illya pushed her pants down and turned Gaby on her back in the bed. It was easy; she was light and willing. Illya pulled her pants away and moved her legs just as he wanted. Illya pushed his own underwear down and leaned against her. Their kisses were hungry and impatient. Gaby’s hands caressed his neck and back, tucked under his arm, her fingers grabbed his skin. Illya could feel the demanding throb in his veins; burning desire that wanted to be satisfied. He wanted so much he could taste it. Illya let both of them out of misery by pushing in.

Gaby’s nails clawed on Illya’s back so hard it stung. She gasped sharply and Illya could feel her skin turning sweaty. Gaby was hot and tight around him and he stopped for a moment to enjoy the feeling. He didn’t ask Gaby was he hurting her. He could see in her half closed eyes, parted and wet lips, red cheeks and panting breath that even if he was, she liked it. His strong woman. So he pushed himself again on her and her head bent back and she tried to suffocate the moan coming out of her. Gaby’s hands grabbed him and her strong ballerina thighs clenched on his hips so hard that Illya wondered if he wasn’t bruised afterwards. He liked how she didn’t hold back and made him feel how strong she truly was.

With every thrust Gaby felt the knots inside of her starting to open. All those knots that were keeping her from relaxing. More the knots opened, more she lost her self-control, less she was afraid of anything and more she wanted to let go. Illya didn’t hold anything back; he just mercilessly took her like he wanted. Gaby liked that, the feeling when she lost her control and trusted herself to somebody else. She felt free and without strings. The world crumbled away around them; there was only Illya hard inside of her, touching her skin and kissing her neck. Gaby was only a bunch of exposed nerve ends and lust. Her begging moans filled Illya’s apartment and his heart with golden light.

It wasn’t gentle or soft. It was seven months of pressure erupting. Seven months of looks, pining, lust, hints and waiting. It was Illya pressing Gaby’s wrists against the bed, red lines she clawed on his back with her short nails and grabs that left bruises. They were two starving people who had finally, after months, fed properly. They were devouring even when they knew they would feel that later. But it was all worth every future sore and ache. Every touch felt like burn marks that stayed on the skin and burned there. They were carving each other’s skins with marks that would stay there forever.

Gaby’s back arched like it was going to snap in two when she came. Her fingers grasped the sheet and her body jerked uncontrollably. Illya wanted to continue but she squeezed around him so tightly and hot that he came against her orgasm. His back hunched and he rested his head on her shoulder. Gaby pulsated around him and panted under him. For a moment he stayed there and evened out his breath. Gaby sighed when he pulled out and rolled to lie next to her.

Illya turned his face to Gaby who was staring at the ceiling. She breathed deeply through her mouth and didn’t move a muscle. Illya looked at her opened lips and her profile. His Gaby. His chop shop girl.

Finally Gaby turned her face to Illya. Her eyes were soft and she looked relaxed. Slowly she rolled on her side and Illya pulled her close. “It was…“ Gaby paused to ponder her words, “thorough.”

“I hope that is good,” Illya said. He knew it was good. He knew Gaby had liked it; still he wanted her to confirm it.

Gaby nodded and looked pleased. “I’m sure now all your neighbors know that you were thorough too,” she muttered, a little embarrassed. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to be that loud.”

Illya turned his face to Gaby’s hair and breathed in her scent. Gaby nuzzled a little closer. “I enjoyed your sounds very much,” he muttered into her hair.

Gaby hummed. “Although your neighbors might be used to this kind of life. Maybe this happens all the time,” she speculated softly.

Illya shook his head against Gaby’s hair.

Gaby smiled lazily. Illya’s hand bent on the small of her back, his fingers drew spirals on her skin. It felt nice and still odd. She didn’t regret what had happened and she didn’t want him to go anywhere, but it would take time to settle to the idea that this had happened. And that it was probably happening again. Still she did like him against her, drawing on her skin.

”What do we do now?” Gaby asked drowsily. She rubbed her cheek on Illya’s shoulder. She wouldn’t oppose taking a nap against him.

“I don’t know,” Illya muttered. He didn’t know did Gaby mean in the next minutes or generally in the future. The answer was still the same; he didn’t know. And it didn’t bother him. Only important thing now was Gaby’s skin against him. Her warmth that was finally so close. Her soft touch, moving chest against him, her cheek on his shoulder. Illya didn’t care what happened next. Maybe not ever. He wanted to care only about Gaby’s warmth right now.

“Me neither,” Gaby sighed. She didn’t care. She just wanted to lie against Illya and continue not caring for anything else. There were no knots inside of her and she was so sleepy.


	2. Pink mist

They slept for two hours. Bodies were tired, minds were tired. After months they finally relaxed. Illya woke up inside of a pink mist where he had submerged. There was only him and Gaby.

Gaby whose hands seemed to be everywhere. They slid over every curve and every straight. They pressed him against the bed, pulled him on top of her, tangled in his hair. Gaby who slid her fingertip over every scar of his, traced those like she was memorizing him. There were freckles on her nose and cheeks. Sprinkled there like gingerbread crumbs. Gaby whose face nuzzled in the crook of his neck. Her lips kissed the skin behind his ear. Her teeth bit gently his lower lip. Her tongue slid along his throat, over his Adam’s apple. Gaby who kissed so deeply and passionately that Illya had to finally push her away so he could take some air. Gaby who grinned at him after that, smugly.

She lay on top of him and let him wrap his arms around her tightly. Gaby whose chest heaved against him, whose breath was warm against his skin, whose heart beat under Illya’s kisses. Gaby who whispered things to his ears that made him almost blush. Gaby who got up to go to the bathroom without clothes and who didn’t mind when he stared at her. Gaby who made his heart race in his chest when she rubbed him hard. She straddled him, bit her lower lip when she got him inside of her. Gaby whose head bend back from pleasure. Gaby who was beautiful on top of him, set the pace, teased him and dug her short nails in his chest when she came. Gaby whose orgasm squeezed him hard. She didn’t stop but continued moving and made him grunt when he came. Her cheeks were red and her bangs messed.

Gaby who lay relaxed next to him, her fingertips gently tickling his side. Gaby who murmured in his ears and told how good he felt. She purred like a cat to his Russian endearments and whispered her own in German. Gaby who didn’t seem to get enough for him. Gaby who sighed when his fingers slowly slid between her legs. Gaby whose back arched when his tongue slid against her warm flesh. Illya wrapped his arm around her thigh and kept her pressed to the bed. She tasted sweet. Gaby whose fingers laced with his hair. She came slowly and long, somewhere deep. Gaby whose hands rested on his neck when she kissed him. Her kisses were soft and exploring, her tongue wonderfully curious.

She touched without hesitation, firmly yet gently. She lifted her brows and grinned when she made him gasp and sigh. Gaby who Illya found hard to keep her hands off even when he already gave everything he had to give at that point. Still he wanted to touch more, get more. Gaby who pulled him deeper into the pink mist, whose outlines started to get blurry. Gaby who pumped him dry in the best possible way. Gaby who knew that and muttered into his ears with a voice soft as velvet very obscene things she wanted to do with him after they rested awhile. Gaby who was so much livelier against him than Illya could ever imagine. Gaby who gave herself until it hurt. Gaby who was still scary because she was so direct and brave and Illya feared that he couldn’t reciprocate.

Gaby who kissed his neck and lips, stroked his cheek and told that she loved him. Gaby who made him speechless with her words. Gaby who said out loud the thing Illya wanted to hear more than anything. Gaby who smiled softly when he told that he loved her too. Gaby who curled against him, breathed calmly and loved him. Gaby who moved her hand on his chest to warm his brand. Gaby who loved him. Breathed against him. Gaby who hummed satisfied when he stroked her neck and let his fingers lace together with her hair. Gaby who loved him. Slid her finger along his lower lip. Gaby who loved him. Loved him.

Illya didn’t think that he would ever get up from the pink mist. He would stay there. He would be there with Gaby. He would let her press him against the bed and caress and love him as much as she wanted.

But the real world caught them in very ordinary manner.

“I’m hungry,” Gaby muttered and rubbed her nose on Illya’s neck. “No. Starving.”

“Me too,” Illya noticed. “There is no food in here,” he remembered. “Maybe tea, but not more.”

“We need to go to a store,” Gaby said and her hand touched its way down his side as far as she could reach.

“Or do you want to return to the hotel to eat?” Illya asked. He didn’t want to return yet. He wanted to keep Gaby to himself and in his bed. At the hotel there would be other people, other commitments, other life. Here was only Gaby and her skin against his skin.

Gaby lifted her face so she could see him. “Can we spend the night here?” she asked. “Get some food here and join the real world in the morning?”

Illya smiled a little and nodded. “We can stay.”

“So, food?” Gaby sighed and rose to sit.

Illya yanked her back against the bed. “No. You are not going anywhere,” he said. “I will go. You will stay naked in the bad.”

“Are you giving me orders?” Gaby asked amusedly.

Illya kissed her. “Yes. When I come back I expect you to be as you are now.”

Gaby made a low chuckle. “Fine,” she agreed. “But when you come back, you need to take your clothes back off.”

Illya looked at Gaby, considering her words, and nodded. “Fine. I can work within those orders.”

Gaby smiled and leaned to kiss him. “You don’t have any other choice now, do you?” she muttered against Illya’s lips.

Illya huffed when he got up. It was all for show; he liked that he didn’t have any other choice. He didn’t like leaving Gaby naked in his bed alone, but he was sure that they would both benefit from some fuel before she undoubtedly would press him back against the bed. And he didn’t only let and want her to do it, he would probably ask for it and thank her for it, with a desperate voice.

Gaby watched him get dressed. He didn’t ask her not to watch although he seemed little awkward. Illya usually dressed without anybody being around. But now there was Gaby, in his bed, like he had dreamt for months. Of course he let her watch if she wanted to. It was hard to deny anything for somebody who lay naked on your bed, hair messy and a lazy smile on her lips. He leaned to give her a kiss. It was supposed to be quick and short, but Gaby rolled over on her back, her hands wrapped around his neck and face, and pulled him close. Her tongue pressed against his, hot and lively. Illya could feel the kiss on his stomach. He had to take hold of the edge of the bed so that he didn’t fall over. Both turned their heads so that they weren’t completely upside down.

“Hurry back,” Gaby said when she let him go. She smiled and watched him from the bed. Illya looked weird being all upside down, but she could still see his little smile.

Illya didn’t intend to keep her waiting.

Gaby spread her arms on the bed when the door closed after Illya. She felt glorious lightness and freedom and couldn’t help but to smile. The whole afternoon felt throughout her body. There was wonderful soreness when she lifted herself to sit. If they continued today, what they would probably do, she may not walk tomorrow. For some reason the thought only made her smile. She could imagine that this was exactly what they would do; after seven months of observation, circling each other and holding back they most likely would just devour each other and would be completely worn out tomorrow. And it didn’t bother Gaby at all. If you would be completely worn out and soar, what better way to achieve that than by having sex with somebody who made your knees weak. Like Illya did. She smiled again.

Gaby crawled up from the bed. She had her orders to stay naked and wait for Illya. But she still got up. She was too excited to stay still without somebody pinning her against the bed.

She walked around the apartment. It was small, but the high ceiling and wide windowsills gave it some space. The floor was completely covered with rugs which Gaby assumed had something to do with the heating. In the corner of the living-room was a wood burner, just like Illya had said. There was a big woodchip basket full of logs. Bookcase, couch, armchair, record player, desk at the corner, little kitchen nook and a wooden table. You couldn’t throw dinner parties, but two people could eat there. Two people could curl up on the couch or make love on the iron bed in the bedroom. That she had already tried out.

She wandered around. She didn’t open any drawers or cupboards and when she went to the desk she didn’t read any of his papers, only noticed his handwriting on one paper. She didn’t want to snoop. Not at least when she was alone. She would snoop when Illya was there so he could stop her if there truly was something she wasn’t supposed to see.

Gaby went to the record player. She lazily went through the records, selected Mahler and turned the record player on. Symphony No.6 started with cellos and she continued touching the records. The door opened and closed and she smiled.

“I didn’t stay in bed,” Gaby confessed, in case it wasn’t obvious. “But I’m still naked. So it’s already half of what you ordered me to do. That is probably more than I usually obey,” Gaby smiled. “Do you need help undressing? I’m happy to help,” she offered and turned to look at Illya over her shoulder. He stood at the doorway and just stared at her.

“What?” Gaby asked and tilted her head. “You are staring.”

“Sorry,” Illya said and went to the kitchen. “But you are causing it yourself,” he pointed out.

“You ordered me to stay naked,” Gaby said and set her hands on her hips. “Maybe you should’ve predicted this,” she teased.

“Yes, in the bedroom,” Illya said and the corners of his mouth twitched, “where this,” he continued and pointed at Gaby with his finger and drew circles in the air, “would be appropriate. You are in the living-room. I do not think anybody has been naked in this living-room.”

Gaby held her smile. She went to Illya in the kitchen nook, took a hold on his shirt and yanked it out of his slacks and started to pull it up. “I need to borrow your shirt,” she informed him. “I have already been naked in two rooms and if you count this nook as a room, then I’m naked in the kitchen too,” she said and held her grin.

Illya smiled slightly and let her pull his shirt. He helped and watched Gaby pulling it on. She pushed the sleeves over her elbows. “Better?” she asked and lifted her brows.

“No,” Illya said frowning. “I did not say that you needed to put anything on even when you were naked in the living-room,” he pointed out. Gaby lifted herself to sit on the kitchen counter and looked him smiling. “Why would I never want to cover you up? That is just stupid,” he asked. Then he frowned when he realized what Gaby was doing. He shook his head. “You are teasing me. Are you?”

“Maybe,” Gaby chuckled. She reached to take a hold on Illya’s belt loops and pulled him close to her. Gaby craned her head up and pressed her lips on his. “Sorry,” she muttered and kissed him deep and slowly. Her hands moved on his back, squeezed them closer to each other.

Illya hummed when they pulled apart and didn’t even try to hide his soft smile.

Gaby leaned back closer to give him quick peck. “Food,” she sighed then. “What did you get?”

They ate smoked beef and pickles on black bread and drink tea in the kitchen nook. Gaby sat in the counter, Illya leaned against it right next to her. Neither one suggested moving in the table. Gaby drank milk straight from the bottle and wiped the drops from her chin in Illya’s shirt. Some part of them was touching all the time; Illya’s hand on Gaby’s knee, Gaby’s toes on Illya’s leg, Illya’s side on Gaby’s thigh, Gaby’s lips on Illya’s shoulder. Illya cut an apple in half and gave one half to Gaby. She smiled at him before biting it. They kissed and Gaby’s legs wrapped around him. Her hands touched the muscles moving under Illya’s skin on his back and his hands moved up and down on her sides under the shirt. Illya pulled Gaby closer to the edge of the counter and looked down to see Gaby’s hand opening his belt buckle and slacks. He wanted to see her doing it. His eyes closed for a while when she slipped her hand inside of his underwear. He pulled his shirt up along her sides and she lifted her arms. Illya let the shirt drop on the floor as he pressed soft kisses on her shoulders and neck. Gaby wrapped her legs tighter around him when Illya picked her up from the counter and carried her back to the bedroom.

The pink mist buried them under. Suddenly there was no soreness. Lust and want replaced all of that. Lips were kissing, hands were touching, exploring. There was only Gaby and Illya.

Illya whose kisses traveled up her stomach, circled her breast, tongue touching her nipples, covered her with kisses. Illya who was strong and firm on top of her. His hand tucked under her back, slid under her butt and lifted her hips effortlessly up from the bed and against him. Illya who was KGB’s best, serious and dangerous and still touched her so gently and whispered sweet nothings into her ear. Illya who made her purr like a cat and want so that it burned. He made her heart burst in flames as blue as his eyes. Illya who loved her. Illya who pressed her against the mattress, trusted himself inside of her hard and yet continued slow and lingering movements. He made her breath tremble and body shiver. Illya whose kisses were intense and tasty. Illya who let her roll him over and climb on top of him and who looked at her with eyes soft and full of lust. His hands slid against her sides. Illya who took a grip on her hips and kept her tight against himself so he could get deeper. Illya whose chest she leaned her palms. Illya who breathed faster and was so open and free under her, showed how good Gaby made him feel, didn’t hide his pleasure.

The pink mist thickened, outlines blurred. They were a pile of messed hair, tangled limbs and deep kisses. So close to each other than it was physically possible without sliding under the other’s skin. Thrusts and moans. Tongues touching. Hearts pressed together. Gaby who loved Illya. Illya who loved Gaby. Two fools who didn’t stop when they should’ve but instead decided to endure the soreness later. Now it was more important to have everything what was there to be had; every kiss, every caress, every thrust, every moan and orgasm.

When sleep finally swept over them in the dark hours of the night, they lay against each other, skin touching skin. In the morning light both were tired and examining their injuries; Gaby in the bathroom mirror, Illya in the bedroom. They dressed and ate breakfast.

Gaby sat down carefully at the kitchen table and glanced at Illya who had noticed her slow movements and looked immediately guilty. “Stop,” Gaby ordered. “It’s not your fault.”

“I caused it,” Illya pointed out quietly.

“And I wanted that,” Gaby said. “It’ll pass,” she added, and shrugged her shoulders. “Are you saying you are completely fine?”

“No,” Illya had to confess. “I wonder how I have any skin left,” he muttered.

Gaby hummed and tried to hold her smile but couldn’t quite manage. Illya looked him under his brows and smiled slightly too. “I also have big bruises on my hips. From somebody’s ballerina thighs, I think.”

“My wrists are bruised,” Gaby said and showed them to him. “Like somebody would press me against the bed.”

“Who would do something like that to you?” Illya asked and Gaby was sure he was actually teasing her.

She held her smile. “You see this?” Gaby asked and bent her neck and pointed so that Illya could see the pale love bite right over her collar. She knew Napoleon would spot that immediately. “This is not the only one showing on my skin,” she informed him.

Illya lifted his brows inquisitively.

“Shoulder,” Gaby said. “Other breast,” she continued and Illya smiled to her. “Multiple on my inner thighs. Very high,” she remarked with her other brow lifted. She liked Illya’s little smug expression.

“Well, my back is still full of red scratches from your nails so maybe we are even,” he suspected. “And my lips are chapped.”

“So chapped,” Gaby agreed and drank her whole glass of water. “And I think I’m dehydrated.”

“I wonder how come I am still alive,” Illya muttered. “You practically pumped my dry.”

Gaby had to suppress a laugh. She pressed her fingers on his mouth for a while and then took as serious a look as she could manage. “That is some collection of battle wounds,” she said. “Quite impressive.”

Illya nodded and looked at Gaby. “Maybe next time we should take it easy.”

“Next time?” Gaby repeated and tilted her head. “Is there going to be a next time?”

“If you want,” Illya said uneasy. “If you don’t then we can…” he stopped and frowned. “You are teasing me.”

“Yes,” Gaby confessed. She smiled and took a bite from her sandwich. “You go so cute and awkward when you say something and then start to think that I don’t like that,” she told. “But yes, there is going to be a next time. And many times after that. Considerable number of times. And these probably aren’t the only injuries we are going to get,” she suspected. “Because I’m going to do things to you that would make Napoleon blush. Things they haven’t even heard about in Soviet Union.”

“Quite bold claim,” Illya said amused.

Gaby nodded convincing. “You’ll see,” she promised.

Illya wasn’t sure was Gaby being serious. Probably was. First they would suffer their aches, heal, and do it all again. They would submerge in the pink mist and the rest of the world would melt away. He and Gaby. Gaby who he loved. She smiled to him over the table and licked bread crumbs from her chapped lips. Gaby who loved him.

**Author's Note:**

> Beta thanks to MollokoPlus


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